Once Upon a Time
by Calligraphy
Summary: “And as she looked upon this house that was not a home, she pretended that there had once been a dream.” Narcissa takes a walk in the forest.


Disclaimer: If you guys are looking for JK Rowling, you're in the wrong place. The characters belong to her Ð I'm just borrowing them.

Summary: "And as she looked upon this house that was not a home, she pretended that there had once been a dream." Narcissa takes a walk in the forest.

A/N: Well, this is my first published piece of fanfiction, so please be kind. Reviews and constructive criticism would be welcome.

~Calligraphy

Once Upon a Time****

She found it extremely satisfying that she could take strolls into the forest, for as long or short as she pleased Ð enjoyed it so much that in fact it was almost a matter of pride. In midday, when the sun was at its peak, and the trees stood tall, and silent, and motionless, and the air was so thick as to be stifling, and so still that she could almost taste its hot stagnancy. And Narcissa Malfoy relished every minute of it.

Here, in solitude, in the muted hush of a time and temperature that no other creature would envy, she walked in perfect freedom and peace. Her own woman Ð never one to bend to another's will, with a sharp eye and a sharper tongue Ð a clever mind, too, and she knew how best to wield her poise and femininity. Yes, Narcissa was an epitome of strength of will and absolute control.

This was the calm, icy, impassive exterior that was displayed to the world.

Yet at the moment this seemed very incongruous to her current state of being. She had taken off her heavy satin cloak that she so proudly flaunted as the mark of her wealth and status and her husband's affection. It was strewn over a nearby branch, and she herself was lounging against a tree: a flimsy paperback in her lap, her hair free from its usual confines of a tight bun.

A flick through the book brought color to her cheeks, and she almost giggled girlishly at the well-read, cheap romance novel. She admitted to herself that it was amusing Ð given that she was reading them now as a grown woman with a loving husband, and that she wouldn't have been caught dead with one at Hogwarts.

She would almost have looked content had she not been shooting nervous glances around her every few minutes.

Narcissa chided herself even as she did it. There was no need for this, as no one knew where she was, and more importantly, no one would stop her. She was allowed to do as she wished, and Lucius would always support her in her decisions. After all, Lucius thought that she was attending some social function with the wife of a fellow associate, someone who understoodÉ.

But of course this was just a precaution. She was perfectly capable of telling her husband the truth about where she was, except for the fact that he would worry about her, and he had enough on his hands without adding his wife to the list. Yes, she nodded decisively. That was why she kept these secret outings to herself.

She went so far as to think that it was rather fun, seeing how long she and her friend could keep this secret from their husbands. They both went their own separate ways, arranged to both apparate back home by five-thirty, and report that they had a wonderful time together at the supposed rendezvous.

For the last four months, their clandestine excursions stayed between them. Narcissa called it fun, and pretended that it was not a risky game that played with far too many consequences for comfort.

She pretended to forget the one time she had been caught.

And then she shook all thought away, and settled into her novel, with she as the spirited heroine and he the caring hero, and she made believe that it was real. And if she tried hard enough, the fantasy would last until the manor came into sight, before she had to transform. And then her tryst with the forest would be over, memory as elusive as dreams, to last her until next time.

Hours passed in the still heat, and when she finally looked to her watch for the end of her welcomed solitude, she was sweaty and her hair was tangled, and dirt and pine needles clung to the seat of her robes. She leaped up. It was time to go.

She hurriedly cast some cleansing charms, and a glamour to reflect her flawless make-up, and a flick of her wand had sleek hair pinned back on top of her head. Her cloak once again hung gracefully around her shoulders, and the book was banished back to her stash hidden beneath a floorboard. Another quick twist of her wand and she was standing in front of Malfoy Manor, and reality snapped back into place.

And as she looked upon this house that was not a home, she pretended that there had once been a dream. She didn't pretend that her husband still loved her, or that he wouldn't ever hurt her, or that he wouldn't care if he found out that she had disgraced the Malfoy name by degrading herself in the forest. She didn't pretend that he didn't have a multitude of other women, or that Lucius had touched her as a wife since they had realized that Draco had been conceived.

She pretended that once upon a time, there had been a dream at all.

A/N: Oh well, there it was. Please review!


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